Daughter of the Institute
by the-Mad-Majesty-of-Muchness
Summary: Rory Baythrush has spent her whole life in Idris. But when her parents die, she's suddenly uprooted and sent to live at the New York Institute with total strangers. And as if it wasn't already hard enough to adjust to her new life, there's also a rogue warlock causing trouble in the city. Great. Just...great.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Okay, so this idea popped into my head a couple weeks or so ago, and I started writing it, and then my friend Billy Jay showed me this awesome website called Canva that is PERFECT for making FF story covers, and I experimented with it by making one for this story, and then I decided that hey, I'd already made a cover for it, so why not publish it and actually put that cover to use? lol, so, yeah, here you go. Hope you enjoy it! Also, I'll be giving you certain info at the end of the chapter to help make things a bit more clear. Anyway, yeah, I'll do my disclaimer and then shut up so you can read, lmao.**

 **I OWN NOTHING (except Rory, Thad, and Lissie) AND DENY EVERYTHING!**

* * *

Thirteen-year-old Rory Baythrush stared up at the huge Gothic cathedral in front of her. She had a knot in the pit of her stomach that refused to go away and had been there for weeks, ever since she'd been told she would be coming to live here. The young Shadowhunter had spent her entire life living in Idris with her parents up until now, but with both of them dead and no next-of-kin to take her in, someone else had needed to be found, and the people who ran the New York Institute had volunteered, so that was where she'd been sent.

She'd heard about these people. They were pretty famous in the Shadowhunter world for stuff they had done when they were teenagers. Their names were Clary and Jace Herondale, and the way she understood it was that the person who had previously run the Institute, Maryse Lightwood, had passed it to her son, who had, in turn, passed it to Jace, his _parabatai,_ so that he could move in with his boyfriend, and his sister still lived at the Institute with the Herondales.

"Come on, Rory," Aline Penhallow said. She was the one who had been tasked with taking Rory from Idris to New York and making sure she reached her destination safely. Rory sighed and followed Aline up the front walk to the doors. Aline rang the bell, and after a moment or so, one of the doors opened to reveal a shorter woman with red hair, green eyes, and a smattering of freckles across her face, her bare arms covered in Marks.

"Aline, hi!" the woman said, stepping outside to hug Aline. "It's good to see you again, it's been way too long! How's Helen?"  
"Nice to see you, too, Clary," Aline replied. "Helen's great, she said to tell you and Jace hi."

"Tell her we said hi back."  
"I will. This is Rory, by the way. Rory, this is Clary Herondale."

"Hi, Rory," Clary said.  
"Hello," Rory replied.

"Come on in, both of you."  
"Oh, no, I can't stay," Aline said. "I'd love to, but I have to Portal back to Idris to take care of something else."

"Some other time, then," Clary said. "It was great seeing you."  
"You, too, Clary. Rory, remember to take your meds, alright?"

"I know, I know," Rory said with a sigh.  
"Well, I better get going. Bye, guys!"

"Bye, Aline!" Clary said.

After Aline had gone, the redhead turned to Rory. "You hungry?" she asked. "I was just finishing up with getting lunch ready."

"Okay," Rory said.

"Come on. We can leave your suitcase out in the hallway for now, I'll show you your room after we eat, alright?"

She lead Rory inside and showed her a good spot to set her suitcase down, then took her into the kitchen. "Church!" she said to the cat that was sitting on one of the counters. "Get down from there right now, you know you're not allowed on the counters!" She went over and picked the cat up, which earned a meow of protest, then set it down on the ground. As the cat trotted out of the room, a man with blond hair, gold eyes, high cheekbones, a silver hoop in one ear, and a lean frame came into the room followed by two children, a boy and a girl, the girl with hair the same color as Clary's and the same gold eyes and general facial structure as the man, and the boy with messy blond hair, green eyes, and freckles. The man had Marks, but the kids didn't, and Rory figured they must not be old enough to have their first runes yet.

The man went over to Clary and gave her a kiss on the cheek as she went about putting food on paper plates.

"Ah!" Clary said, swatting the boy's hand away from one of the plates. "Go wash your hands first. You know how this works, we do it every day."

"Yeah, Thad," the girl said. "Don't be such a dummy-dolt."  
"Don't call your brother names, Lissie," the man said.

"Where's Izzy?" Clary asked.  
"She said she's going out to lunch with Simon," the man replied.

"Then I guess we'll have leftovers. Okay, everybody, this is Rory, the girl that we agreed to take in. Rory, this is my husband Jace, that's our daughter Lissie, and our son Thad."

"Nice to meet you, Rory," Jace said. "I'm sorry about your parents. How are you holding up?"  
Rory shrugged. "I'm okay, I guess," she said. "This all just so weird for me. I've never left Idris until now."  
"I know what that's like. I lived in Idris until I was ten, then I came to live here. It took some getting used to."

"Is Rory a nickname for something?" Clary asked.  
"Yeah, it's short for Victoria. My mom gave it to me when I was a baby, and it just sort of stuck."

"My name's a nickname, too," Lissie said. "My name's actually Felicity."  
"Mine's Thaddeus," Thad said sulkily. "It's the stupidest name ever."

"Oh, please, you want stupid?" Clary said. "Your dad once decided he wanted us to call him Baron Hotschaft von Hugenstein."  
The kids burst into laughter, and Jace grinned. "Ah, yes," he said, "my distinguished alter ego. How could I ever forget him?"

Clary rolled her eyes and shook her head. "'Distinguished' my ass," she muttered. "Oh, by the way, I forgot to tell you, Mom and Luke are coming over for dinner tomorrow."

"Oh, alright," Jace replied, nodding as he took a bite of his food.  
"When are Uncle Magnus and Uncle Alec coming over?" Thad asked.  
"They can't come over right now, they're out of town, remember?" Clary said.

"Oh yeah...Where'd they go again?"  
"To...Where was it, Jace? Belgium or something?"

"No, Scotland. Magnus wanted to take Alec to Loch Ness, I think."  
"Knowing him, he wanted to do it so he could prove the existence of the Loch Ness Monster."

Jace nodded in agreement with this. "You're probably right," he said.

"Who are these people we're talking about?" Rory asked.  
"Uncle Alec is Dad's _parabatai,_ " Lissie said, "and Uncle Magnus is his husband."

"Magnus is also the High Warlock of Brooklyn," Clary added. "Speaking of Magnus, someone has to go and feed Chairman Meow tomorrow."  
"I'm not doing it," Jace said quickly, shaking his head. "Last time I did, I got scratched. Badly, too. It drew blood, I had to put an _iratze_ on it."

"Don't be such a baby, Dad," Lissie said.  
"Yeah, Jace, don't be such a baby," Clary teased.

"Who's Chairman Meow and why are we feeding him? Can't he feed himself?"  
"Chairman Meow is Uncle Magnus's cat, so no, he can't feed himself," Thad said.

"He named his cat Chairman Meow?" Rory asked, raising an eyebrow.  
"Hey, it's better than our cat's name. Ours is just named Church. That's a dumb name," Lissie said.

"I'm sure Church would disagree with you on that," Jace said. "You know who else would disagree with it? My great-great-great-grandfather and his parabatai. My understanding is that it was one of them who named that cat. Church is actually short for Church Cat, and the only reason I know any of this is because a warlock who knew them told me about it. Same warlock who gave me the Herondale ring. Tessa, I think her name is."

"Church is _that_ old?" Clary asked, her eyebrows going up in disbelief. "Wow. He is really long-lived for a cat."  
"Bye, guys!" a female voice called from the hallway. "I'm leaving to go meet Simon at Taki's, I'll see you later!"

The sound of high heels clicking against the floor could be heard, then the sound faded, and a moment later, there was the sound of the front door closing.

"Who was that?" Rory asked.  
"That was Isabelle, Alec's sister," Jace said. "You'll meet her later."

"And who's Simon?"  
"Her boyfriend. Also Clary's _parabatai._ He used to be a mundie, then he was a vampire, then he was a mundie again, and then he went through Ascension to become a Shadowhunter and help him regain his lost memories."

"How does one go from a vampire back to a mundie?"  
"Long story," Jace and Clary chorused.

"Mom, can I be excused?" Lissie asked.

"Put what's left in the fridge and throw your plate away, then you can," Clary said. "And I want you to go and work on that lesson we were doing the other day, alright?"  
Lissie sighed heavily. "Yes, ma'am," she said, and then got up and did as she had been told with her leftover food and the plate before leaving the room.

One by one, everyone began to finish their food, and after they were all done, Clary and Rory went to get the young teenager's suitcase, then Clary took her through the halls of the Institute, stopping at a door that was near a tapestry depicting Raziel rising out of Lake Lyn with the Mortal Cup and Sword, an image that Rory had seen probably a gazillion times throughout the course of her life in various places. The redhead opened the door to reveal a standard Institute bedroom.

"This will be your room," she said. "You can customize it however you want later on. Put posters up, whatever you feel like. I'll be in the library with Lissie, and Jace went to the training room, so come and find one of us if you need to. And I think that's everything for now, so...welcome to New York."

* * *

 **Okay, so here's that info I promised!**

 **First of all, in my head, Jace and Clary got married when he was nineteen and she was eighteen, and they were married for two years before Lissie was born. This story takes place in the year 2022. I did the math based on everyone's ages in the books, and here's what I determined as far as ages go:**

 **Jace, Isabelle, and Simon are all 31.  
Clary is 30.  
Alec is 32.**

 **Also, just a fun fact about the way I came up with Rory's name:**

 **I've noticed that most Shadowhunters have more old-fashioned sounding names (Clarissa, Helen, Aline, Amatis, Lucian, Jocelyn, etc., etc.), and the younger generation (Clary and Jace's generation, that is) in particular all seem to have nicknames that are a little unusual. Hence, the nickname Rory for the name Victoria (also, Lissie for Felicity and the obvious choice of Thad for Thaddeus). Now, her last name, Baythrush. As we all know, Shadowhunter surnames are, by tradition, what the Codex refers to as being "compound," such as, for example, Jonathon Shadowhunter's being shadow+hunter. The Codex provides a list of, and I quote, "appropriate English words that can be combined to make names." So I looked at the list and played around with a few things until I managed to come up with Baythrush, which was better than anything else I'd mashed together up until then, so that was what I decided on. And thus, I ended up naming my OC Victoria "Rory" Baythrush. :)**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this first chapter (I know it was short, but I just kind of needed to introduce Rory and get the ball rolling, so things are going to pick up more in the near future, I promise), I should have the next one up soon since I've already got the first three or so finished and am working on what I'm pretty sure is the fourth (I'm not sure, tbh, but I'm pretty sure that's what it is, lol), and in the meantime, please remember to review! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay, so Simon and Izzy show up in this chapter, so yay for that, and so do Alec and Magnus! Um...yeah, so...that's about all I have to say. :/**

 **I DISCLAIM!**

* * *

Rory lashed out at the training dummy in front of her. She swung her blade with precision-point accuracy, aiming at the chest and hitting her mark perfectly.

"You're good," a voice said. The thirteen-year-old turned. Leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed was a Marked woman with long black hair and dark eyes, dressed in a black sequined tank top and denim skirt with high-heeled black boots and sheer black tights, a silvery-gold bracelet around one wrist and a red pendant around her neck. She had on pink lipstick and smoky eye makeup, and her eyeliner game was seriously on-point, and her red nail polish was hella flawless. She was smiling, her expression indicating that she was rather impressed by what she was seeing.

"Thanks," Rory said, and slashed at the dummy again.  
"You must be Rory," the woman said. "I'm Isabelle, Jace's adoptive sister."

"Nice to meet you. Cool bracelet."  
"Oh, thanks. It's actually an electrum whip."

"Are you serious? That is so cool!"  
"Yeah, check this out."

Isabelle flicked her wrist, and the bracelet uncoiled itself, stretching out and lengthening. She caught it by the handle, then lashed it out, and it wrapped around the neck of one of the training dummies. She gave it a yank, and the dummy's head snapped clean off, landing on the floor with a dull thump.

"Woah," Rory said.

"Breaking things again, are we, Izzy?" a new voice said, and a man with shaggy brown hair and glasses wearing a Flash t-shirt appeared in the doorway behind her.  
"Just showing off my whip, that's all," Isabelle replied. "Rory, this is my boyfriend Simon. Simon, this is Rory, the girl that Jace and Clary agreed to take in."

"You're that guy that used to be a vampire, right?" Rory asked.  
"Yep, that's me! To this day, Jace is _still_ calling me Fangs."

"How is that possible?"  
"Long story," Isabelle said.

"...Okay then."

"By the way," Simon said, pulling something out of his back pocket and holding it out to Isabelle, "this came. Clary asked me to pass it on to you."  
Isabelle frowned as she took it, tearing into the envelope and pulling out what was inside. A smile broke out onto her face. "Oh, it's a postcard from Alec!" she said.

"What's it say?" Simon asked. Isabelle turned it over to look at what was written on the back.

"It says they're having a great time in Inverness," she said, "and not to be surprised if Magnus comes home wearing a kilt. Also, the Institute there is, and I quote, 'hella smaller than ours.'"

"I'd imagine that _most_ buildings are smaller than this one," Rory said as she looked around.

"Except the Empire State Building," Simon said. "And the Chrysler Building. And that one in...Damn, where is it? I forget. Mahjong?"

"Mahjong's not a place, stupid, it's a game," Isabelle said.  
Simon paused and seemed to think about this for a moment or so. "Oh yeah," he said finally.

"Rory, what are you even doing up at this hour?" Isabelle asked. "It's really late, I'd think you'd be in bed."

Rory shrugged. "Couldn't sleep," she said, "and training helps me relax."

"Sounds like someone else we know," Isabelle remarked wryly.  
"What about you guys?" Rory asked. "Why aren't you in bed?"

"We've been out all day, we just recently got back."  
"And I'm not staying," Simon added. "I have my own apartment to go back to. I just came in with Izzy to tell her goodnight and stuff."

"Oh. Okay. I'm probably gonna go back to bed in a few minutes."

Isabelle twisted her wrist, and the electrum whip shrank, turning back into a bracelet.

"Well," she said, "we'll let you finish up what you're doing. It was nice meeting you, Rory. Goodnight."

"Night," Rory said.

Simon and Isabelle turned and left, and Rory went back to slashing at the dummy in front of her.

* * *

Over the next few weeks, Rory started adjusting to life at the New York Institute. She started having her lessons with Lissie and Thad, sometimes with Clary as the teacher, other times with Jace. She met Clary's mother and step-father, Jocelyn and Luke Graymark, who both offered their condolences on the loss of her parents. She started decorating her room to fit her tastes, and Clary helped her do things like frame her posters and put them up on the walls and pick out good curtains and other things along those lines. She soon learned that like her, Jace could frequently be found in the training room honing his skills, even though, in Rory's opinion, he was already a master and didn't need any improvement. There were a couple times when she got to watch him and Clary train together, and they worked together beautifully. It was as if they were tuned in to each other's minds, always anticipating the next move and getting ready for it. They made a good team, not just as husband and wife, but also as fighters.

And then, one day, while Clary and Jace were giving all three children a lesson about the Schism, two men strolled in, one of them with black hair, bottle glass blue eyes, and Marks, and the other clearly with Asian heritage dressed in a dark blue silk button down shirt, black sequined blazer, and a kilt of forest green and navy blue.

"We're back, bitches!" the man in the kilt said, throwing his arms out as they entered the room. "Miss us? Oh, who am I kidding, of course you did, why wouldn't you when we're both so damn lovable?"

"Uncle Alec!" Lissie and Thad chorused. They leapt up and ran over to the man with blue eyes, who got down on their level to give them a hug.

"Hey, guys," he said. "It's good to see you again. How you doing?"  
"Bored," Thad said. "Mom and Dad are talking about the Schism again."

"Well, you _do_ need to know about it," the man said matter-of-factly.

"Victoria Baythrush," the man in the kilt said, putting his hands on his hips.  
Rory looked at him and blinked. "How do you know my name?" she asked.

"I can read minds," he replied. "No, I'm kidding. We ran into Isabelle in the hall, she told us about you. Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn, at your service."

"And I'm Alec, Izzy's brother," the other man said as he stood up.  
"It's nice to finally meet you guys," Rory said. "I've been hearing a lot about you from Lissie and Thad."

"Speaking of whom, they better get back over here and finish this lesson if they want dessert tonight," Clary said.

"But Mom, we already know about the Schism!" Thad exclaimed.  
"Okay," Jace said, "then answer this for me. What started it in the first place?"

"The witch hunts in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, duh!" Lissie replied.

"And it was between what two groups?"  
"It was a disagreement between Nephilim. The Clave and—"

Jace made a buzzer sound, giving a double thumbs-down. "Warlocks," he said. "Nephilim and warlocks. Get over here, both of you."

"Lissie," Alec said, "I'm not entirely sure, but something tells me you might be thinking of the Circle."

"...Oh. Right. Oops. Thanks, Uncle Alec," Lissie said. She and Thad sulked back over to the table and sat back down.

"I don't think I want to stick around for this," Magnus said. "I'd rather _not_ hear about that particular bit of history again. Not a happy time for my kind. I think I'm going to go back to the apartment and say hello to Chairman Meow since I haven't seen him in a while. I'm sure he misses his daddy. After all, I miss him, so why shouldn't he?"

"Speaking of that cat of yours, Bane, he scratched me deep enough to draw blood," Jace said, holding up his arm. "I had to put an _itratze_ on it."  
"Oh, wah, wah, wah, let's whine about it a little more, why don't we, I'm sure that'll fix it," Magnus retorted. "You're thirty-one years old, Herondale, grow up."

Without waiting for a response, Magnus turned on his heel, his kilt flaring out around his legs, and left the room.  
Alec sighed and shook his head. "Magnus," he called as he started after his boyfriend. "Magnus, wait up! Hey, Magnus!"

Jace looked down at the book sitting open on the table in front of him and bit his lower lip. "You know what?" he said. "Now that I think about it...we've been at this for almost two hours. Clary, why don't we let the kids have a break and do something else, instead? I could take them to the training room for a while, how's that sound?"

Clary sighed, then gave a shrug. "Alright," she said, "sure. Just as long as Thad is kept busy enough that he doesn't cause any trouble."

Jace gave a nod, then shut his book and stood up. "Alright," he said, "everybody go put on your gear and meet me in the training room, we're gonna work on the physical stuff for a while."

Thad and Lissie cheered, then leapt up and raced out of the room with Rory following them at a slower pace. Once they were alone, Clary looked at her husband.

"Do you think Rory's okay?" she asked.  
"What do you mean?" Jace replied.

"She just...I'm worried that maybe things are moving a little too fast for her. I mean...she lost her parents without any warning, and then it was only, what, a week later that she came to live here with us? Most people would have spread that sort of thing out over a longer period of time. And I know that most people don't have Portals to transport them across the ocean, but still. For someone her age, it's...well, it's a lot to absorb at once, you know? And I know how it feels to have to acclimate to drastic changes unexpectedly like that, so I guess I just...I guess I'm just concerned about how she's handling it. Especially since she hasn't exactly been very talkative with any of us since she got here. You see what I'm saying?"

Jace was silent for a moment or so as he processed her words and thought of how to respond, then nodded.

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I guess I do. If it'll make you feel better, I'll talk to her after we're done training, see if I can't get her to open up a bit."  
"That actually would help a little, I think. Thanks, Jace. I just..." She sighed and shook her head. "I just don't want her to feel alienated here, you know? I want her to know she's welcome here, that this _can_ be a home for her if she'll just open herself up to the idea, even a little bit. And...I think that you understand what that's like better than anyone, so...maybe it is best if you're the one to talk to her. At least about that part."

Jace nodded again. "Alright," he said, "I'll take care of it, don't worry. Now, if you'll excuse me, I should probably go change into my gear and get my arse into the training room before they start thinking I bailed on them or something."

Clary laughed. Jace smiled, giving her a quick kiss before leaving the room while Clary stayed behind to put away the books they'd been using in the lesson.

* * *

Jace went and stood behind Rory. He leaned over and put his hands on her knees, adjusting her stance by gently altering the position of her legs ever-so-slightly, then stood with his chin hovering just above her shoulder and put his arms over hers, taking hold of her wrists and positioning her arms. His grip was both firm and gentle at the same time, not too tight and not too loose, and his hands were sturdy and warm and, surprisingly, not anywhere near as calloused as she'd thought they would be; in fact, the skin was hardly rough at all, aside from a few minor scrapes that hadn't quite healed yet and hadn't been bad enough to require an _iratze._

"Alright," he said, "you're doing a good job. Now, have you ever thrown a knife before, or is this your first time?"  
"I've done it a few times," she replied, "but not enough to be very good at it. I miss my mark about five times out of ten."  
"That's okay, we can work on that. It's why we're here. Here's wwhat I want you to do. You see that target just across the room?"

Rory nodded.

"Okay. I want you to focus on that target. Don't pay attention to anything else, just look at the target and listen to the sound of my voice. Even out your breathing and square your shoulders as best you can. Bend your elbow like...this...Good, now just hold your arm at that angle for a minute. Keep focusing on the target and my voice. Now, pick a spot on the target. It doesn't have to be the bullseye, it can be any spot you want, and if that happens to be the bullseye, then that's fine, if not, that's also fine. Once you've picked a spot, keep staring at it, don't look away from it. And once you're focused on your spot, take a deep breath...count down from three as you let it out, draw your arm back like this...and...release."

Rory flung the blade in her hand forward, and it went tumbling through the air end-over-end before embedding itself in the target just outside the bullseye. She blinked.

"Is that the spot you were aiming for?" Jace asked.  
"It—Y-Yes," Rory said. "It is...I can't believe I just did that."

"The right stance and breathing techniques can make a world of difference," Jace said as he stood up straight. It had been nearly an hour since they'd first come into the training room, and while Lissie and Thad had called it quits after about thirty minutes, Jace and Rory had opted to stay and keep going. Jace wasn't wearing a shirt or any shoes, having taken them off at about the same time Lissie and Thad had left, and with his chest exposed, Rory could see his _parabatai_ rune for the first time since she'd known him, along with a star-shaped birthmark on one shoulder. Rory couldn't help but think that Shadowhunter or not, Jace was in incredibly good shape for being thirty-one.

He went over to the target and yanked the blade out, then dropped it on the floor. "Let's take a break for a bit, shall we?" he said. "Catch our breath and cool off before we keep going."

Rory nodded, and Jace went over to the back wall of the room, picking up the two bottles of water that had been sitting there. He tossed one to Rory, then opened up the other one and took a long drink from it while Rory did the same from hers. When Jace took the bottle away from his mouth, a few drops of water spilled down his chin, and he wiped them away before screwing the lid back onto the bottle, then went to a spot near the center of the room and flopped down onto the ground, laying there on his back with his eyes closed. Rory watched him as she sat down a few feet away and drew her knees up to her chest, setting her water bottle down beside herself.

"So Rory," Jace said without opening his eyes, "tell me about yourself."  
She shrugged even though he couldn't see it. "What's there to tell?" she asked.

"Well...For one, I still don't know how old you are."  
"I'm thirteen. My birthday was just last month."

"Tell me something random about yourself."

"Like what?"  
"Mmm...What if I told you some stuff about me first?"

"O-Okay...sure."

"Alright, let's see...I play the piano...I speak five languages, including English...My favorite food is mu shu pork, and I love horses and being barefoot...I hate cucumber, bergamot, and Earl Grey tea...I also don't like sugar in my coffee...I hate ducks, absolutely can't stand them—Don't ask me why, I haven't the faintest idea, it's just something that's always been there. Um...what else?...This is going to sound weird, but I have no official birth name. I originally believed my name was Jonathon Christopher Wayland, and when I moved in with them, Alec and Isabelle's mother started calling me Jace as a nickname for Jonathon Christopher. Then I believed I was a Morgenstern. Then I learned I'm actually a Herondale. Since the Lightwoods are my adoptive family, I keep their last name as my middle name, so even though, like I said, I have no official birth name, I'm known as Jace Lightwood Herondale. And, um...yeah. That's pretty much me in a nutshell."

"What other languages do you speak?"  
"Romanian, Latin, French, and Italian. I actually used a bit of French when I proposed to Clary, as cliché as that is."

"I don't think that's cliché. I think that's really cute."  
The corner of his mouth twitched upwards a bit in a faint smile.

"What about you?" he asked. "Tell me some stuff about you, just whatever you can think of. Doesn't have to be much if you don't want. I'm just curious."  
"Um...I've always been really interested in the myths and legends that mundanes have and how they connect to the truth of things. You know, like how much truth their is in their version, that sort of thing. And...both my parents were only children, which is why I didn't have any aunts or uncles or anything to go to when they died. I like mundie literature. Not like the modern stuff, I'm talking more like Victor Hugo and Gaston Leroux and Edgar Allan Poe and the Bronte sisters and Jane Austen and Lewis Carroll, Daphne DeMaurier, Mary Shelley...the classics and kind of obscure older stuff, that sort of thing. And, um...yeah...that's...that's about it, I guess."

She glanced over at him. He was still laying there on the floor with his hands folded on his middle, chest rising and falling steadily with his breathing, but his eyes were half-open now, and he was watching her past his eyelids. She bit her lower lip and quickly looked away. In her peripheral vision, she could see him sit up, pulling his knees up to his chest and folding his arms on top of them as he turned his head in her direction.

"Rory," he said, "can I tell you a story?"  
She looked at him, but said nothing, which was as good an answer as any for him.

"Once," he said, "there was a young Nephilim boy. He lived in the Idris countryside with his father, who was both loving and harsh. The man raised his son as a warrior, being strict and even giving the boy an occasional beating. He raised the boy to believe things such as that to love is to destroy, and that to be the one loved is to be destroyed. He once even gave the boy a falcon, intending it to be a killing companion. When the boy tamed it, however, his father broke the bird's neck, saying that it was supposed to have been trained to be obedient, not tamed, and that the boy had ruined it. Nonetheless, the man treated the boy with some level of kindness, such as when he let the boy have a spaghetti bath on his birthday one year, and despite the extremely disciplined upbringing, the pair did, in fact, share a few moments that you would expect to find in any caring father-son relationship."

He paused, sighing heavily and running a hand through his hair before continuing.

"When the boy was ten years old, his father...his father was killed. The boy was then sent to an Institute to live and train with the family who ran it. He was adopted by this family, becoming good friends and, eventually, _parabatai_ with the older of their two sons."

There was another pause, this one longer than the first, and Rory then realized that he was finished with the story.

"Why are you telling me this?" she asked quietly.

"That boy," Jace said without looking at her, "was me, Rory. I later found out that the man who raised me wasn't actually my father, nor had he actually been killed, but nevertheless. I just...I thought you should know that you're not alone in this. That I know what it's like. And I just...I want you to know that if you ever need or want to talk to someone about everything that's happened, that _is_ happening...I'm here, and so is Clary. We want you to feel welcome here. We're not trying to replace your parents. We know we could never do that, nor do we want to. But we dohope that one day, you might consider the Institute your home."

He sighed.

"Anyway," he said, "I just...I just thought—"

"Jace!" a voice called. Simon appeared in the doorway dressed in hunting gear and armed with weapons. "Jace, put your shirt on, dammit, we've got a situation that needs to be taken care of, let's go!"

Jace leapt to his feet, hurrying over to where he'd put the rest of his gear when he'd taken it off. He quickly put it back on, then yanked his boots onto his feet and laced them up. Rory stood up. "Should I come, too?" she asked.

"No, Rory, you stay here with Thad and Lissie," Jace said, "we'll be back as soon as we can. Give me the details, Fangs, tell me what's happening."

Rory stood and watched as the two men vanished from sight, listening to their footsteps go down the hall until she couldn't hear them anymore, or the sound of Simon's voice as he explained to Jace what he knew so far about the situation. She caught something about a rogue warlock causing mayhem in Manhattan's East Village, but that was it. Several long moments passed. Then, after what felt like a lifetime to Rory, Lissie appeared in the doorway. She was barefoot, dressed in denim shorts and a flannel shirt that was too big for her with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Her red hair was damp, as if she'd just gotten out of the bath or shower, making it appear darker than it actually was. She bit her lip and rubbed the back of her neck, bare toes curling slightly on her right foot.

"Mom said to tell you that you're in charge while they're gone," Lissie said. "I guess because you're the oldest and Magnus isn't here."

"...Oh. Okay," Rory replied. She rubbed her arm, feeling slightly awkward. Lissie jabbed a thumb over her shoulder.

"Thad and I were gonna play Cards Against Humanity," the younger girl said. "You wann play with us?"  
"I don't...know what that is," Rory said. "I've never heard of it before."

"It's a card game. We'll teach you how to play if you want."  
"O-Okay...sure...just, um...let me go change out of my gear first."

Lissie nodded, then turned and left, her bare feet padding against the floor as she walked.

* * *

 **Um, yeah, so that's about it...Um...The next chapter is gonna start off pretty dramatic, and I'M NOT TELLING WHAT HAPPENS, TROLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL**


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay, so as you're about to see, this chapter is kind of short, and it starts off with a bit of drama, and then we merge into some good ol' fashioned Sizzy fluff later on!**

 **Okay, the type of demon that it mentions in here, the Drevak. Remember in the books, those demons that look kind of like giant maggots, and they're blind and have to get around by scent and they have poisonous spines in their mouths? (If memory serves, it was the kind of demon that Jace saved Clary from the first time he Marked her before they took her to the Institute to heal.)**

 **That's what a Drevak demon is. I got the information I needed about them out of my copy of the Codex, which has been helping me refresh my memory about certain things as I've been writing this story, as well as the Wiki.**

 **ALSO, I should probably warn you since I know some people are more sensitive to this kind of thing than others, that there is some major swearing in this chapter, but it's only a couple times or so, so it shouldn't be TOO big of a deal.**

 **So, anyway, yeah. Please review!**

 **I DISCLAIM!**

* * *

Clary held the front door of the Institute open as Jace and Alec hurried inside carrying Simon between them, a frantic Isabelle not far behind.

"We have to move quickly if we're going to get the spine out in time!" Jace said. "We've got to get the venom out of his system, before it's too late!"

"You think I don't fucking know that, Jace?!" Alec demanded.

They were all under a lot of pressure at the moment. All except for Simon, who had a poisonous spine from the mouth of a Drevak demon embedded between two ribs.

"I'll kill her!" Isabelle shouted tearfully as they made their way into the infirmary. "I'll fucking kill that Goddamn bitch, she deserves to die for doing this to him!"  
"Isabelle, snap out of it!" Clary said firmly, grabbing her friend by the shoulders. "Killing her won't do anybody any good! It won't help Simon recover, and you know it!"

"I don't _care,_ she _deserves_ it!" Isabelle cried.

They had gone to the East Village in Manhattan to confront the rogue warlock, all of them somewhat surprised to find that it was a female. Her warlock mark was one of the more obvious ones—a pair of horns coming out of her head that were similar, Clary had thought, to the ones that Angelina Jolie had in the movie _Maleficent._ The warlock had actually been quite pretty. She'd had black hair that fell to her shoulders and blue-green eyes that seemed somewhat out of place against her cocoa complexion, though not in a way that was unattractive. She had spoken with a London accent, and her name, they had learned, was Athena Reid—or at least, that was what she called herself. She had boasted of being over fourteen hundred years old, which Jace had determined would mean that she was born somewhere around 600 A.D., but other than her bragging and calling them foolish, asking if they really thought they could defeat her, she hadn't been very chatty, instead preferring to hurl spells at them and attack them with the demons she had summoned to have at her command.

Poor Simon hadn't even seen the Drevak coming.

"Get his shirt off, now!" Jace commanded. "Rip it off if you have to, just do it! And for the Angel's sake, somebody call the Silent Brothers!"

"Mom, Dad?" a voice said. "Aunt Izzy? What's going on?"  
"Not now, Thad, we're in the middle of an emergency," Clary said to her son. "Go to bed, alright? Dad or I will come check on you as soon as this is over, go. And tell Lissie and Rory to stay in their rooms, too!"

Thad turned and went back down the hall, glancing over his shoulder a few times as he went.

Meanwhile, Alec had cut Simon's shirt off with an inactive seraph blade, being careful not to disturb the Drevak spine as he sliced the fabric from around it. Jace pulled his _parabatai_ away from their wounded friend, then leaned over and examined the injury. Simon let out an agonized moan.

"Get it out of me," he groaned.  
"Simon, if I pull it out, you could—" Jace began.

"I don't care," Simon interrupted, "just get it out! Dammit, Herondale, I'm dying over here, and if I'm not gonna make it, I at least wanna die without this damn thing sticking out of my body! Now get it out, you stupid bastard!"

Jace looked over his shoulder at his wife and adoptive sister. Isabelle sobbed. Jace's eyes locked with Clary's, silently asking what to do, figuring that she was the best person to direct the question at since it was the life of her _parabatai_ that was on the line. Clary bit her lip and looked at Simon, taking in the tortured look on his face, his heavy breathing, the way his hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, how quickly he seemed to be losing color...She set her jaw and looked back at Jace, meeting his eyes once more.

"Do it," she said.

Jace gave a single nod, then turned his attention back to Simon and closed his fingers around the barb piercing the other man's skin, gripping it tightly enough that the muscles in his arm could be seen straining beneath the surface of his skin. "Alright, Simon," he said. "I'm going to count to three, then pull this thing out, got it? Here goes. Ready? One...two...three!"

He pulled as hard as he could, and Simon cried out in pain as the barb slowly began to loosen a little at a time. Isabelle was overtaken by sobs, covering her mouth with her hand as she turned and buried her face against Clary's shoulder. The redhead embraced the taller woman and rubbed her back in what she hoped was a comforting manner as Simon's shouts increased in volume.

"Dammit!" Jace said, letting go of the spine. "That thing is really wedged in there!"

"Move," a voice said, and just like that, Magnus was standing over Simon. His hand glowed blue as he passed it over the wound, then he gripped the barb and yanked it out as effortlessly as pulling a fork out of a pile of mashed potatoes.

"Where did you come from?" Jace demanded.  
"I came to visit and ran into Alec as he went out into the courtyard. He told me what was going on, so I came to help while he summons the Silent Brothers. You're welcome, by the way."

"Right, well, thanks, I guess."  
"What the hell did you _do,_ Bane?" Simon asked, his hand going to clutch at the wound.

"I numbed it for you so you wouldn't be in so much pain," Magnus replied.

"It...It tingles."  
"Side effect. It'll wear off in a few seconds."

Just then, Alec came back into the room with a pair of Silent Brothers following him. He pointed at Simon lying on one of the beds. "There," he said.

 _What is his current condition?_ one of the Brothers asked in all their heads.

"The Drevak spine is out," Jace said, "but the wound is still bleeding, and the venom is still in his system. We haven't even put any _iratzes_ on him yet."

 _One of you may stay,_ the Brother said, _everyone else must leave._

"Let me stay with him!" Isabelle cried. "Please!"  
"You're in no state to deal with this right now, Izzy," Alec said gently. "You wouldn't be any help if the Brothers needed you to be. I think it will be better for both you and Simon if you left for now."

"But—"

"It's alright, Iz," Simon said weakly. "I'll be fine, I promise. I ain't givin' up on you that easy, and if you think I am, then girl, you be cray."

Isabelle pursed her lips, then walked over to Simon and planted a gentle kiss on his forehead before turning and letting her brother lead her from the room.

"I'll stay with him," Clary said. "He's my _parabatai,_ so it's only right. Besides, I think it'll make Izzy feel a little better about it if it's me."

"My thoughts exactly," Jace agreed. He got up and went to kiss his wife, then looked at Simon. "Don't die on us, Fangs," he said. "If you do, I'll strangle you myself when we run into each other in the afterlife."

"Noted," Simon said. Jace gave him a two-fingered salute, and he returned it weakly, then the blond turned and left the room, closing the doors behind himself.

"Alright," Clary said to the Brothers, "tell me what I can do."

* * *

None of the adults slept much that night. Magnus didn't go home at all, staying at the Instiute and sitting up with them. Isabelle ended up crying herself dry, leaving her eyes rimmed with red and her makeup ruined, though for once, she didn't care, too distracted with worry over her boyfriend. Alec and Jace took turns comforting her as best they could until finally, at almost one in the morning, Clary walked into the room with an exhausted look in her green eyes.

"How is he?" Isabelle demanded. "Is he...?"  
"He's fine," Clary replied. "He's tired and still weak, but he's going to be okay. The Brothers just left, they said you can visit him if you want. Just try not to keep him up too long, he needs to rest to regain his strength."

Isabelle leapt to her feet, hurrying out of the room and down the hall to the infirmary, where she found Simon laying on his back with one arm draped across his stomach, his glasses on the nightstand beside his bed and his eyes closed, chest rising and falling steadily with his breathing. She slowly crossed the room and sat down on the edge of the bed next to him. When he felt the mattress shift with her weight, he opened his eyes, smiling faintly when he saw who it was.

"Told you I ain't givin' up yet," he said quietly. She smiled weakly, gently brushing some hair away from his eyes. Simon reached over and picked his glasses up, putting them on so he could see her more clearly, then taking her hand in his and giving a soft squeeze.

"You scared me, Simon," Isabelle said.  
"I'm sorry, babe," he replied. "I didn't mean to."

"I know. It wasn't your fault. It was that bitch warlock's. We'll get her back for that, I promise. Whatever it takes."  
"Iz, there's no reason to go all Jack the Ripper on her for it, alright? Technically speaking, it wasn't even her, it was that Drevak."

"Yeah, but a Drevak under her command."  
"We could argue this all night, but I get the feeling that's not why you came to see me."

There was a pause. Isabelle pushed some hair behind her ear and sighed, tears beginning to build up in her eyes again.

"I almost lost you, Si," she whispered. "I already had to go through that once when you lost your memories. If I had to do it again, I...I wouldn't be able to. No matter what the reason. I can't imagine my life without you in it anymore, and I honestly don't want to, I love you too much, and—"

"Marry me."  
"...I...What?"

"Marry me," Simon repeated. "If you love me so much, then marry me. You'd look fantastic in gold."

"Simon, I...Are you sure that's what you want?"  
"I'm sure. The only other thing I've ever been this sure of is that Captain Kirk is about a gatrillion times more kick-ass than Picard."

Isabelle couldn't help but laugh a bit when he said that. "I have no idea what that means," she said. "But we're already past the age that most Shadowhunters marry at...and we tend to die so young...and I love you more than I can express...so my answer is yes. I'll marry you, Simon. Nothing would make me happier.

He smiled and lifted her hand to his lips, softly kissing each of her knuckles before she gently disentangled her hand from his and took his glasses off his face, setting them down in the same spot they'd been in before he'd picked them up, then leaning down and kissing him ont he lips.

"You need rest," she said. "We'll talk more in the morning, alright?"  
"I might not have a Shadowhunter family ring to give you," Simon whispered in her ear, "but I do have something else. Go to my apartment when you get the chance and look in my nightstand drawer."

"Okay," she said, then kissed him again before leaving him to rest.

She went back into the room where everyone else was and stood with her arms crossed, a determined look on her face.

"Guys," she said, and everyone turned to look at her, "we need to do something about this Athena Reid."

Nobody disagreed with her.

* * *

 **HOW MANY OF YOU SAW THE PROPOSAL COMING BEFORE SIMON EVEN SAID IT?! XD**


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay, so I managed to make this chapter at least somewhat longer than the others, which is always a good thing, right? Anyway, we're going to meet another new character and we get to see a bit of Jocelyn, so yay! Um...I'm currently working on the next chapter, so hopefully that won't take too terribly long. Also, thanks to DemigodShadowhunterTribute for being the first person to favorite/follow this story! You've given me encouragement that I might actually be doing at least a semi-decent job on this, so like Simon said to Izzy last chapter, I ain't givin' up yet! Um...other than that, I don't really have much to say, so...yeah. Enjoy the chapter!**

 **I DISCLAIM!**

* * *

"Is he alright?" Jocelyn asked, her brow furrowed in concern.  
"He's still a little weak," Clary replied, "but he's going to be okay."

They were at Taki's together having lunch, and Clary had just finished recounting to her mother what had happened with Simon and the Drevak demon. She sighed and shook her head.

"I don't think I've ever seen poor Isabelle so freaked out before," she said. "You know how she is, it takes a lot to rattle her."  
"It's a good thing Magnus showed up when he did," Jocelyn said. "Otherwise, who knows what it would've taken to get that barb out?"

"Well, one good thing came out of it, at least," Clary told her mother. "Simon and Izzy finally decided to get married."  
"They did? Oh, that's wonderful! Tell them I said congradulations! By the way, how are the kids doing?"

"They're great, couldn't be better. Lissie is still complaining about doing lessons, and Thad is...well...you know."

"Thad?"  
"Exactly."

"What about that other girl that you and Jace took in? What was her name again?"  
"Rory. She's...adjusting. I still don't think she's totally comfortable with all of us yet, but..."

"You know you shouldn't try to replace her parents, don't you?"  
"Of course we know that. And we don't want to. We just...We want her to feel welcome, at least. Maybe even think of the Institute as her home eventually. But we would never try to replace her parents. Mom, Jacce and I both know how hard it can be to make transitions into new lives. Jace especially knows what it's like to suddenly be uprooted from the only home you've ever known and moved somewhere totally new. You have to remember, the same thing happened to him when he was ten. And my introduction to the Shadow World wasn't exactly easy or gentle, either, you know that. But we're both doing our best to help her as much as we can. She seems to spend a lot of time in the training room, so Jace goes in there with her as often as he can without making it seem like he's trying to pester her or anything. And I'm thinking that maybe we should get her a present to help her feel more welcome, you know? She's mentioned that she's interested in munane mythology, so I thought maybe we could get her a book on that. I'm not sure, what do you think? Would that be pushing it, maybe?"

"No, not at all. If you think it would help her feel comfortable, then by all means, go for it. In fact, I bet Luke probably has something in the store. I'm sure if you asked him, he'd let you take a look and see what you find."

Clary nodded as she took a sip of her drink. "Yeah," she agreed, "that's kind of what I was thinking I'd do. Speaking of Luke, how is he? I haven't heard from him in a few days."

"He's doing good. Actually, I don't know if he's told you this, but he's thinking of relinquishing his role as the pack alpha and retiring, so to speak."

Clary nearly choked on her food. She had to take a gulp of her drink before she could speak.

"He's _what?"_ she said. "But if he does that, then who would be in charge of the pack?"  
"He said he'll probably give control to Maia if he decides to go through with it. Or Bat."

"I...I honestly don't know what to say to that, I mean..."  
"I know. I'm still kind of trying to wrap my head around it, too."

"Hey, guys," Kaelie said as she came over to their table. "You need anything? Refill on drinks, maybe?"  
"I'm gonna need a to-go box," Clary said. "I promised Lissie I'd bring some food back for her, she'll be mad if I don't."

Kaelie laughed. "Okay," she said. "Jocelyn, how about you?"

Jocelyn shook her head. "No, thank you, I'm good."  
"Alright," Kaelie said, "I'll be right back, then."

Clary watched the fae walked off and sighed. "God, it's kind of hard to believe I've known her as long as I have," she said.  
Jocelyn smiled at her daughter. "It's hard for me to believe that you're married and have kids of your own."

"Really, Mom? Even though our twelfth anniversary is coming up this year?"  
"I don't think I'll ever _fully_ get used to it. You have to remember, you're my baby girl no matter how old you get."

Clary smiled. Kaelie returned with the to-go box, then went to take someone else's order.

"So," Jocelyn said as Clary began putting some of her food in the box, "tell me about this warlock that was commanding the Drevak."

"Well," Clary said, "it was a woman. You remember that movie _Maleficent,_ the one with Angelina Jolie? The horns that she had in that movie? This woman's warlock mark is a pair of horns that look similar to Angie's in that movie. She didn't really seem very inclined to talk except for bragging and that sort of thing. Apparently, she's over fourteen hundred years old. Calls herself Athena Reid."

"Athena," Jocelyn repeated, "the Greek goddess of wisdom and battle strategy. I wonder if there's a reason she picked that particular name for herself."

Clary's phone buzzed on the table. She picked it up and looked at it, then sighed and shook her head.

"Everything alright?" Jocelyn asked.  
"Yeah," Clary replied. "Jace just texted me. He says that Thad got into my paints again and caused a huge mess."

She gazed at the text for a moment, then shook her head. "I should probably go help take care of this," she said.  
Jocelyn smiled. "Alright," she replied. "Oh, before I forget, is it still alright for Luke and I to come to dinner tonight?"

"Yeah, of course. Magnus and Alec are also probably going to be there."  
"Oh, great, I haven't seen them in a while, that'll be fun. Give the kids hugs for me, will you?"

"Yeah, Thad will just have to wait for his until _after_ he's had a bath."

Jocelyn laughed as they stood up. They embraced, holding onto each other for a few moments or so.

"Tell Simon I hope he gets well soon," Jocelyn said.  
"I will," Clary replied. Jocelyn kissed her daughter on the cheek, then released her, watching as she turned and left the restaurant with her take-out box in hand.

As Clary made her way down the street, her cell phone rang. She pulled it out of her pocket and looked at the caller I.D., then hit the accept button with a confused frown. "Hello?"

 _"Clarissa Herondale?"_ the person on the other end asked.  
"This is she," Clary replied, her frown deepening at not recognizing the voice.

 _"Meet me outside the Hotel Dumort tonight at ten."_  
"What? Why?" she asked.

 _"Just do it."_  
"Who is this?"

But it was too late; the line had already gone dead, and she was just listening to a dial tone now. Her frown reappeared as she took the phone away from her ear, then shook her head, putting it back in her pocket and continuing on her way.

When she walked through the doors of the Institute, she could hear shouts and laughter, and as she began making her way down the hall towards the sounds, Thad suddenly bolted around the corner. He was barefoot and had no shirt on, with paint all over his chest and nearly up to his elbows, and even some in his hair. Jace skidded around the corner, racing after the eight-year-old.

"Thaddeus Elliott Herondale!" Jace shouted. "You get back here _right_ now and come take a bath, young man!"

"Never!" Thad yelled.

"Fine, then I guess that means you want a week's worth of extra chores and twice as much time doing lessons, because that's what you're gonna get if you're not on your way to the bath by the time I count to ten!"

"What?! But Dad, that's not fair!"  
 _"Life's_ not fair, Thad, now get moving! One! Two! Three! Fo—"

"I'm going, I'm going, jeez, quit counting already!"

Thad went skulking back in the direction he'd come, going past Jace, who was standing there pointing down the hall towards the bathroom and breathing heavily, his shoulders visibly rising and falling. As soon as Thad was gone, Jace's arm fell to his side and both hands went to his hips as he turned to look at Clary.

"I'm sorry," he said.  
"Sorry for what?" she asked.

"Sorry that he got into your paints again. I would've stopped him, but I had no idea until Rory came running into the greenhouse yelling, 'Jace, Lissie said to come quick, Thad's covered in paint and he's getting it all over everything!' I don't even know how he got the lock on the cabinet open."

"I do," Lissie said as she and Rory appeared from around the corner. The ten-year-old crossed her arms.

"How'd he do it, then?" Jace asked.  
"He stole your stele and used an opening rune."

"Are you serious?! Dammit!"  
"What did he get paint on this time?" Clary asked.

 _"Everything,"_ Lissie said.

"'This time?'" Rory echoed. "You mean this has happened before?"  
"Oh, yeah, absolutely," Clary said. "He's always getting into things he doesn't need to be getting into, especially my art supplies. That's why I had to start keeping it locked up in cabinets and up on high closet shelves and things."

"I didn't know you did art."  
"Yeah, me and my mom both."

"You should see her sketchbook," Lissie said. "She draws some really cool stuff, like Dad with angel wings."

"Will you show me sometime?" Rory asked.  
"Yeah, absolutely, I'd be happy to," Clary replied.

"Are Luke and Jocelyn still coming over tonight?" Jace asked.  
"Yeah. What about Alec and Magnus, do you know?" Clary said.

Jace gave a nod of confirmation.

"How's Simon doing?" the redhead asked.  
"He's alright. Started sitting up on his own while you were gone. Izzy's in there with him right now."

"Of course she is. I'm gonna go in and say hi. Cross your fingers for me that I don't walk in on them making out or something."

Jace threw his head back and laughed.

"Come on, girls," he said, "let's get started on cleaning up Thad's mess, shall we?"

Jace led Rory and Lissie off in one direction while Clary went in the other. When she got to the infirmary, she found Simon propped up with pillows grinning at Isabelle, who was sitting in a chair beside the bed he was in.

"Hey, guys," she said. "What's up?"  
"Hi, Clary," Isabelle replied. "Not much. We're just talking."

"Mom said to tell you guys congrats on your engagement."  
"Aw, that's sweet of her. We heard shouting, by the way, everything alright?"

"Yeah, everything's fine. Thad just got into my paints again, that's all."

Simon and Isabelle both laughed, but doing so made Simon wince as his hand went to the place he'd been injured. "Ow," he said. "Yeah, don't make me laugh quite yet, guys, that still hurts a little."

Clary made a face. "Sorry," she said guiltily. He shook his head as if to say that it wasn't that big of a deal.

Isabelle jerked her chin at the to-go box in Clary's hands. "Whatchya got there?" she asked.  
"Huh? Oh, yeah. Food that I brought back from Taki's, as per Lissie's request," Clary replied.

Simon frowned, sensing that something was somehow off with his _parabatai._ "You okay, Clary?" he asked.

"I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"  
"You seem a little...distracted, I guess is the right word."

"Yeah, now that I think about it, you do seem kind of pale," Isabelle added.

"It's nothing, really. Just...thinking about what we might do for dinner tonight since everyone's gonna be here."

Isabelle accepted this as a reasonable explanation, but Simon knew there was more to it than that. He decided not to press the issue, though, at least for the time being.

Clary grabbed a chair from the corner of the room and brought it over to Simon's bed, putting it next to Isabelle's and sitting down. The three of them talked for a while, Isabelle already beginning to throw out ideas for what she might want her wedding dress to look like while Clary scolded her for talking about that sort of thing in front of Simon, who wasn't supposed to know what the dress would look like until the day of the wedding, and who was also laughing at the exchange between his best friend and his fiancée.

Eventually, Alec and Magnus showed up, and Alec came to the infirmary, asking his sister if she wanted to come train with him, which she agreed to. After giving Simon a kiss and telling him she'd come visit again later, she got up and put her chair back where she'd originally gotten it from before following Alec out of the room. As soon as she was gone, Simon turned to Clary.

"Alright," he said, "spill."  
"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Don't play dumb with me, Fray," he replied. Clary smirked. She found it amusing that even now, he sometimes still called her by the last name she had used in her mundane life.  
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Lewis," she said, making it a point to use _his_ former last name rather than the one that he had taken for himself upon becoming a Shadowhunter, which was Graythorn.

Simon chuckled, then grew serious as he pushed his glasses up so they weren't quite so dangerously close to falling off the end of his nose.

"For real, though, Clary," he said, reaching over and putting a hand over hers. "Talk to me, tell me what's going on."  
Clary hesitated a moment, then sighed, letting her shoulders fall as her gaze fell to their intertwined hands. "Promise you won't tell any of the others?"

"...I'm a little wary now, but okay, sure, I promise."  
Clary let out another sigh, interlocking her fingers with his.

"When I was on my way home from Taki's earlier," she said, "I got this weird call on my cell."

Simon frowned. "Weird how?" he asked.  
"Whoever it was told me to meet them at the Dumort tonight at ten and then just...hung up on me."

"Did you recognize the voice?"  
"No, I'd never heard it before."

"Was it male or female?"  
"Male. Definitely male."

"What'd he sound like?"  
"Young. Like, older than the kids, but younger than us. I think. I don't know."

"Okay, well, then...I guess we're going to the Dumort."  
"Wait a minute, what do you mean, 'we?'" Clary demanded.

"I'm going with you."  
"The hell you are, you're staying right here!"

"I'm fine, Clary, honest! You guys can't keep me in this bed forever, you know, I _do_ plan on getting back up and walking around sooner or later, because I can tell you one thing right now, I sure as hell ain't gettin' married to the love of my life while I'm laying in a damn infirmary!"

"Nobody said that's how it would happen. I mean...of course you're going to get out of bed, Si, but...I'm not so sure you're ready yet."  
"Tell that to me from about two hours ago, 'cause he was definitely up and walking around the room for a little while, just ask Izzy and Jace."

"Okay, well, either way, I don't think you're ready to be back out there yet."  
"Dammit, Clary, we're _parabatai,_ we're supposed to have each other's backs."

"I'm not having this argument with you, Simon."

There was a pause.

"Rock-paper-scissors," Simon said, "best two out of three. If I win, I get to go with you. If you win, I'll stay put. Deal?"

Clary sighed and rolled her eyes. "Fine," she said, "sure, whatever. On three, ready? One, two, three!"  
"Pure luck!" Simon exclaimed when Clary mimed crushing his scissors beneath her rock. "Again! One, two, three!"

"Cheater!" she cried, watching as he pretended to cut her paper.  
"How did I _cheat?_ What am I, a mind-reader? How was I supposed to know what you'd pick?"

"Shut up and go again! One, two, three!...Dammit!"

"Ha, I win! Take that, Herondale!"

Clary huffed indignantly and crossed her arms. "Fine," she said, "you can come. You better not make me regret this, though."

"Oh, don't be such a worry wart, Clary, things'll be fine."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

* * *

That night, Clary and Simon put on their gear and left the Institute after everyone else was already asleep. When they got to the Dumort, a voice called to them from the alley beside the building, and they cautiously went into it. Clary took out her witchlight, using it to illuminate the darkness, but they didn't see anyone.

"Hello?" Simon called softly.  
"Hello," the voice replied.

Clary angled the witchlight so that it was shining towards the source of the voice. Something stired in the shadows just outside the light's reach, and Simon instinctively put a hand on the hilt of the seraph blade strapped to his belt. However, he released his grip on it when he saw what it was that had moved. Emerging from the darkness into the circle of light was a young man who looked like he was either in his late teens or early twenties, with cocoa skin, dark mahogany hair that fell to his shoulders in dreadlocks, and eyes so dark that the pupils were barely discernable from the irises. He was dressed in dark jeans, black combat boots, a white t-shirt, and a leather jacket. He lifted one hand to shield his eyes as they adjusted to the light, blinking against it.

"Would you put that thing away?" he said. "Or...I dunno, dim it or something?"  
Clary wrapped her fingers around the stone, leaving enough space between them for light to still come out.

The stranger lowered his arm. "Thank you," he said. "Clarissa Herondale?"

"Yes, but I go by Clary."  
"You were supposed to come alone."

"You didn't say that on the phone."  
"Who is this, anyway?"

"My _parabatai._ Who are you?"  
"Eli Newman. Or at least, that's what I go by these days."

"What do you mean, that's what you go by these days?" Simon asked suspiciously.

"It's not the name I was given at birth," Eli said. "The name I was given at birth is...well...Let's just say that it would raise some eyebrows in this day and age."

Simon studied the boy closely. He knew this was someone he'd never met before, and yet there was something oddly familiar about him that the former Daylighter just couldn't quite put his finger on. Then it occurred to him suddenly that the Hotel Dumort was a somewhat strange place to want to meet. Almost as soon as that thought went through his head, he was hit by a memory of the time he had spent in the Hotel the night that they had first met Magnus after the vampires had taken him there thinking he was one of theirs while he was a rat. He vaguely remembered a boy with darker skin and dreadlocked hair among the vampires that night. That was when he was suddenly able to put two and two together, and he looked at Eli, recognition dawning on him.

"You're a vampire," he said.

The corner of Eli's mouth turned upwards. "I was wondering when you'd recognize me, Daylighter," he said. "Yeah, I'm a vamp. I would've come to the Institute to talk to you there, but since it's on consecrated ground, well, you see why I had you come to me, instead. Listen, I heard about the commotion in the East Village the other day, and I think I can help you out."

"News sure does travel fast, huh?" Clary said.  
"Nah, it's not that. Athena's just a bragger," Eli replied.

"What makes you think you can you help us?" Simon asked.

Eli's grin vanished. He looked sideways at Simon, the slits of light coming from between Clary's fingers falling across his face in a way that drew attention to the angles of his features, and though Simon hadn't noticed them before, he now saw that there were shadows under the vampire's eyes, a sure sign that he was due for a feeding soon.

"Because," Eli said, his tone somewhat darker than before, "Athena Reid? She's my half-sister."

Clary and Simon looked at each other, then back at Eli.

"How old are you?" Clary asked slowly.  
"Five hundred and ten," Eli said.

There was a pause.

"Well," Simon said finally, "you look really good for your age."  
Eli chuckled. "Thanks," he said, "I've got this great skin care regime, I could share it with you if you want."

The corner of Simon's mouth twitched upwards slightly.

"All joking aside, though," Eli said, "you want to know about Athena, I'm your man."  
"Wait a second, I'm a little confused," Clary interjected. "How is it that a vampire has a warlock half-sister?"

"I'd think that would be kind of obvious to a Shadowhunter," Eli replied. "But I'll explain, anyway. See, Athena is older than me by three years. She's the result of an Eidolon demon tricking our mother. Me, I was the completely human offspring of our mother and her husband, which is who the demon tricked her into thinking it was when Athena was conceived. Athena wasn't born with her horns. Well, actually, I take that back. When she was born, they were nothing but these little knobs on her head, and as she got older, they grew, like how it works with horned animals, like, for example, deer, or antelope. At first, they didn't cause her much trouble. But the more they grew, the more people started avoiding her, until finally, when she was...I guess about twenty-ish, she was driven out of the village by fearful humans. Two years later, vampires showed up and started terrorizing our area. Then they made their way into the our village one night, and, well, I'm sure you can guess what happened."

"Wait," Simon said. "Five hundred and ten years old...and she's three years older than you...That would make her five hundred and thirteen, but...that can't be right. She said that she was over fourteen hundred years old."  
"Oh, puh- _leez,"_ Eli said, rolling his eyes. "That's total bullshit, she just likes to throw out random numbers that are higher than her actual age to make people think she's more powerful than she actually is. Don't let her fool you."

"Is Athena her real name?"  
"Oh, hell no, not anymore than Eli is mine. Elijah is my actual name, the one I was given at birth, but Newman's not actually my last name, and Athena Reid? Pfft. No idea where she got Reid from, and don't ask me why she decided to start calling herself after a Greek goddess, I seriously don't have the first clue."

"Wait a minute, aren't you risking a lot by talking to us?" Clary asked. "Won't Raphael be kind of pissed if he finds out you've been talking to us?"

Eli gave her a quizzical look. "You mean you haven't heard?" he asked.

She frowned in confusion. "Heard what?"

"Raphael disappeared. Nobody's seen or heard from him in days. None of us have any idea where he is, the whole clan is in chaos over it, the only reason we haven't gone into an all-out frenzy like we did when Maureen was in charge is because everyone's so confused and doesn't know what to do without a leader. I've got this gut feeling, though, that Athena knows _exactly_ where Raph is."

"How do we stop her?"  
"To do that, you need me."

"What does that mean?"  
"I'm her one weakness. You can draw her out by making her think I'm in danger, and then, well...we'll have to come up with something."

"How do we know we can trust you?" Simon asked.  
"Would it help in if I swore to it in blood?" Eli replied.

Clary and Simon looked at each other, then back at the vampire.

"Would you?" Simon asked doubtfully.  
"I vow in blood that I will not betray or trick you," Eli said solemnly.

The two Shadowhunters exchanged another glance, and Clary shrugged.

"Alright," Simon said, "I guess we'll have to take you at your word. Now, maybe we should take this elsewhere?"

"Where else is there to go?" Eli asked.  
"To the Sanctuary of the Institute, maybe?" Simon replied, sarcasm tinging his voice. "I dunno, just a thought."

Eli looked at Clary, jabbing a thumb in Simon's direction. "Is he always like this?" he asked.  
"I think he's been spending too much time around my husband lately," she said.

From a broken window on the third floor of the hotel, they suddenly heard a shout, followed by a loud crash.

 _"Wewe hakuna nzuri mwanaharamu,"_ a female voice shouted angrily, _"jinsi kuthubutu wewe?! Hiyo ilikuwa ni binadamu wangu, siwezi kuamini ungependa kufanya kitu kama hicho!"_

"Sounds like Aziza's pissed again," Eli said.  
"What the hell is she speaking?" Simon asked.

"Swahili," Eli replied. "It's her native language, she switches into it when she gets angry. We better get out of here before she starts throwing things out the window again. I don't know the way to the Institute, I've never been. You'll have to lead me to it. By the way...I don't believe I ever got your name, Daylighter."

"Simon. Simon Graythorn. Now quit calling me Daylighter."

Eli grinned, turning his head to the side and letting his fangs come out.

"Once you go vamp," he said, "you never go back."

* * *

Rory woke the next morning and went straight to the kitchen for breakfast, having learned by then that Clary was usually getting it ready by that time. Strangely, though, she found the kitchen empty when she got there, except for Church, who was perched on the island counter flicking his tail lazily back and forth and looking around as if surveying his kingdom or whatever it was that cats did. After getting the feline down, knowing that he wasn't allowed to be up there, Rory turned and left the room in search of someone, anyone, because she knew that she couldn't possibly be the only one up when it was nearly eight in the morning.

"Jace?" she called. "Lissie? Anybody?"  
"I know, it's so weird, right?" a voice said.

Rory nearly jumped out of her skin as she whirled around, breathing a sigh of relief when she saw it was only Thad.

"I've been looking all over the place," the eight-year-old said, "I can't find _anybody."_ His eyes grew wide suddenly. "Maybe they all got abducted by aliens and you and me are the only ones left!"

"I kind of don't think that's what happened," Rory said.  
"How do you know?" Thad retorted.

"Have you ever considered the possibility that _we're_ the aliens?"

Thad opened his mouth to reply, but froze before any sound came out, his eyes going wide, and Rory knew that she had just blown his mind.

"There you guys are!" Lissie said as she came around the corner. "Where is everybody?"  
"That's what we're trying to figure out," Rory told her.

Almost as if on cue, the sound of high heels clicking against the floor could be heard. They all turned, only to be met with the sight of Isabelle moving at a brisk pace down the hall with a book in her hands.

"Aunt Izzy!" Thad cried. "Aunt Izzy, where is everyone?"  
"In the Sanctuary," Isabelle replied. "We've got a vampire there who says he can help us. We're working things out with him."

"Can we come?" Lissie asked.

Isabelle hesitated. "I guess," she said finally.

So the three children followed her through the halls until they reached the double doors of the Sanctuary, which Isabelle heaved open, letting Thad and the girls go in first. There was a table set up in the middle of the room, and Jace was sitting on one side of it with Clary beside him. They were facing a tan-skinned young man with dark hair and eyes, and Simon was standing at one end of the table with one hand on his hip and the other on the table's surface. Alec wasn't there, and Rory figured that he must be back at the apartment he shared with Magnus and Chairman Meow.

Isabelle strode over to the table, putting the book down and sliding it over to the dark-haired man.

"Show us," she said. "Prove that what you're saying is true."  
"Are you sure you want me to?" the man asked. "Do you not want to send them away first?"

He gestured to the children, who were standing near the door, all three of them still in the clothes they'd slept in. The four adult Shadowhunters all looked at the children.  
"They're fine," Jace said, turning back to the other man. "Whatever you're about to throw at us, I'm sure they've heard worse. Nephilim history isn't exactly squeaky clean, you know."

The man shrugged. "Suit yourselves," he said. He grabbed the book, the cassiterite in the ring on his little finger glinting as it caught the light, and opened it up, flipping through the pages. He stopped about a quarter of the way through and laid it down flat, turning it so that Jace and Clary were looking at it right-side up, then leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms.

"I told you," he said, "I am a man of my word. You shouldn't be so distrustful of me, Jace Herondale. I gave my oath in blood, after all, something your wife can attest to."  
"Forgive me," Jace said, voice dripping with sarcasm, "if I'm a little wary of anyone under the command of Raphael Santiago after my past experiences with him."

"Ah, but I didn't approach Clarissa on Raph's orders, now, did I?" the man countered. "I approached her of my own volition."

Rory wondered who this Raphael Santiago was and why Jace was apparently so wary of him.

"In fact," the dreadlocked man continued, "as I mentioned to Clarissa and the Daylighter earlier, Raphael has mysteriously disappeared as of late. Nobody knows where he is...although I'm willing to bet that my half-sister may have some idea of his whereabouts, which is another reason we need to put an end to her...shenanagins."

"Shenanagins?" Isabelle echoed. "You call summoning demons and attacking innocents _shenanagins?"_  
"In this case, yes, I do," the man replied. "She's done far worse things in the past. This is tame by her standards."

"Tame or not, it needs to end."  
"My point exactly, Daylighter."

Simon frowned. "Will you stop calling me that?" he demanded. "I'm not a Daylighter anymore, I'm Nephilim, and I have a name, dammit."

"You're still a Daylighter as far as I'm concerned, that's the long and short of it."  
"You're pushing it, Newman, you know that? I'm about this damn close to sprinkling you with holy water."

The vampire chuckled. "You wouldn't do that," he said.  
"Why not?" Simon retorted. "Because I know how painful it is after having been a vampire myself? Wrong. I never got into contact with the stuff during my sojourn as one of you."

"Then you were lucky. Now, are we going to sit here and have these silly arguments, or are we going to cooperate and bring my sister down?"

"Do you even know why she's doing any of this?" Isabelle asked, narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms. Her pendant swayed gently with her movements, and the red stone glinted subtly as it caught the light at just the right angle. Rory looked at her and saw perfection, a beautiful and deadly warrior queen about to bring judgment down on one of her subjects for something they had done to raise her ire. Everything about her was flawless, from her long black hair to her smoky eye makeup and coral pink lipstick, from her shiny red nails to the confident way in which she carried herself.

 _She's beauty,_ Rory thought, _she's grace, she'll punch you in the face._

"Athena has done many things over the centuries," the vampire said, "things that, even for warlocks, seem strange. The latest of these is hiring herself out as what she refers to as a, and I quote, 'freelance source of insurance.'"

"An assassin," Jace translated.  
"Precisely," the vampire said with a nod.  
"And just what sort of clientele does she take on?" Clary asked.

"Malignant Downworlders, for the most part. A Sighted mundane here and there, as well, but those are few and far between, as I'm sure you can imagine. Anyway, my understanding is that recently, she was hired by one of her fellow warlocks, whos name, unfortunately, I cannot give you, because I do not know it. What I do know, however, is that this warlock felt he had been badly wronged by a Nephilim family during the Schism. I don't know what took him so long to decide to act against this family, though I'm sure he had his reasons, whatever they may have been. The point is, he hired Athena to go and kill this family, as he felt that death was the only suitable reparation for what their ancestors had done to him—an end to their family line, you see? So he sent my sister after them. She successfully killed the man and his wife. But what she didn't know was that there was also a child. So now she's on a mission to find and murder that child, whatever it may take. And I can promise you, Nephilim of New York, that she will not rest until she has accomplished what she has set out to do. My sister does not give up so easily, and she will fight tooth-and-nail if that is what it takes to finish what she has started. And another thing I can guarantee you right now is that she will _not_ fight fair. You saw that yourselves when you battled her in the East Village. So be wary, all of you."

"Do you know the names of the Nephilim she killed?" Jace asked.  
"No, nor do I know the child's name," came the reply. "What I do know is that the child is a girl."

"Do you know _her_ name?" Simon asked.  
"I'm afraid not, Daylighter," the vampire said.

"If you can't tell us anything about the girl, then how are we supposed to stop Athena from getting to her?" Isabelle demanded in frustration.  
"I never said that I knew nothing about her," the vampire said quickly. "Only her name. And then again, nobody has thought to ask about _other_ names, now, have you?"

There was a pause as this sank in and they tried to figure out what it might mean. The vampire sat leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed and a slight smirk on his face as he glanced around at all of them, perfectly content to just wait it out.

"Last name," Clary said finally. "He knows their last name."  
"Very good, Clarissa," the vampire said. There was a pause.

"Well?" Simon said.  
"Well what?"

"Tell us what it is!"  
"Oh, did you want to know? I'm sorry, I wasn't sure since you hadn't actually asked."

Jace pinched the bride of his nose while Simon let out a frustrated groan and Isabelle rolled her eyes, Clary gritting her teeth.

"What is the family's last name, Eli?" Clary asked in a strained voice.  
The vampire, Eli, apparently, grinned widely enough to show off his canines.

"Baythrush," he said.

Rory's eyes widened and she gasped loudly, both hands flying over her mouth as everyone turned to look at her and the meaning of Eli's words hit her in the face like a ton of bricks:

Athena Reid was after _her._

* * *

 **"She's beauty, she's grace, she'll punch you in the face" is something that is frequently said on tumblr when talking about Natasha Romanoff (a.k.a. Black Widow of the Avengers), and I couldn't resist applying it to Isabelle, because come on, let's face it, it's completely appropriate for Izzy, am I right, or am I right, people?**

 **NO RAGRETS!**

 **lol, anyway, um...Eli is from what was formerly known as Bohemia and is now called the Czech Republic, so if and when he ever lapses into Czech, don't be surprised. Which reminds me, if you're wondering what Aziza said (how many of you caught that the word "hakuna" as in "hakuna matata" was in there? XD), I don't remember EXACTLY what I typed into Google Translate, but she's basically saying something along the lines of, "You no-good bastard, that was MY human, I can't believe you just did that, how dare you?!"**

 **...Or something to that extent, lol.**

 **Um, so, yeah. Originally, I was going to have it where Eli and Athena really were 1400+ years old like she claimed to be, but then I was like, "Oh, wait, the Codex says that vampires came into existence in 1444, so if Eli was born around 600 A.D., he would've been LONG dead by the time that happened. Oops. Better change that, lol." So they were actually born in the 1600s, and Athena is a liar and a braggart, lmao.**

 **And...uh...I think that's it for now. So, hopefully I'll be able to post the next chapter soon, and again, thanks to DemigodShadowhunterTribute (awesome name, by the way, that is seriously awesome, good job coming up with that) for giving me encouragement to continue this! :)**

 **MAGGIE OUT, BITCHES!**


End file.
